


i'm on my way to believing

by peraltiaghoe



Series: fluffies [2]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Chance Meetings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fate, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Love, Meet-Cute, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:13:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22311550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peraltiaghoe/pseuds/peraltiaghoe
Summary: Welcome to the cheesiest shit I've ever written.What's my deal lately???A lil one-shot about fate that I've had partially finished sitting in my docs collecting dust for two months.Amy doesn't believe in fate. Never has, never will.Cue Jake Peralta. ¨̮Title from Paramore's The Only Exception.
Relationships: Jake Peralta & Amy Santiago, Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Series: fluffies [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784623
Comments: 8
Kudos: 103





	i'm on my way to believing

“Amy, it’s _fate_!” Gina proclaimed, looking dreamily at her. “I mean, what are the chances you’d run into him again?” 

Amy rolled her eyes. “There’s no such thing as fate.”

“Amy. _Ames,_ c’mon. Are you being serious? You went on a few dates with the guy _years_ ago. And you just happen to run into him? That, my hopeless friend, is fate.” 

She rolled her eyes again, but as she turned around to sift through the stack of papers on her desk, her lips played into a soft smile.

Fate wasn’t real. It was bullshit, made up to sell movies and give long-dead dreams some hope that they may one day be fulfilled. There was simply no such thing as fate. She knew it then, and she _definitely_ knew it now. 

_Now_ being after she could one-hundred-percent, without a doubt say that running into Teddy at tactical village was _not_ fate. If fate _was_ real, it probably wouldn’t end with her boyfriend of a little under a year beating her to the punch line in the joke that was the end of their relationship.

She’d prepared a speech. It was a page and a half long, with extra time designated for any possible questions he may have. It addressed the problems she had been having with the relationship in a way that was respectful and clear. She took her time with the speech, outlining and rehearsing to make sure that the break up would go perfectly. She didn’t want to hurt him, of course, but she also did not want to continue the relationship. 

Teddy had other plans, though. When she’d started off with _we need to talk_ , and he’d decided that they were _not_ going to talk (at least not without as much stalling as he could muster). He accidentally knocked a pilsner all over her, taking time to explain exactly how to get the stain out of her white top, he knew from experience because _with a drink as strong as this, you’re bound to get stains sometimes._

She resisted rolling her eyes and pushed forward with her speech, bringing up that they had no similar interests. Teddy spouted off all of the things they had in common, things that Amy actually had no interest in. She nodded at all of his suggestions, refraining from the eye roll trying to force its way out of her and trying her hardest not to hurt his feelings. 

She had to explain as delicately as possible that _actually_ , she didn’t particularly like that breakfast place at the corner of Fifth and Bleaker. The old films he swore were the best ever created bored her to sleep. She didn’t just happen to have a long work day every time he suggested that they watch them together, she just couldn’t _stand_ them. 

And yes, the thing she liked least of all, worse than any other thing that she endured throughout their relationship, was his downright _obsession_ with pilsners. It was something she had found a little bit endearing at first, but after countless outings to try new, fresh-brewed pilsners all across the state (hours of driving for _that_?), after what felt like millions of home-brewing sessions (messy, time-consuming, and _the smell_ ), after way too many sips of way too many drinks that he _swore_ didn’t all taste the same (they did), she couldn’t take it anymore. 

“C’mon, babe. We have tons in common. Let me order us another round of-”

“If you say pilsners, Teddy, I swear to god.”

He scrunched up his eyebrows, looking her over slowly. “I was going to say drinks, but… Amy, do you _not like_ pilsners?” 

That’s what set off the chain of events that led her through the worst day of her life. She exploded. Her script long-forgotten, she found herself stumbling over words that she specifically planned to avoid--words like boring, annoying, and stagnant. She was rambling on about how she wanted spontaneity, but every day was exactly the same. She knew what to expect each day with him. They’d go to work and no matter what happened there, she’d come home to the exact same thing. 

Teddy would decide what they were having for dinner. He knew her pretty well, and most of the time it was something she liked anyway, but it was always _the same_. Their time was always budgeted, every activity and conversation and _breath_ scheduled in advance and she couldn’t fucking _take it anymore_.

Of course, she hadn’t planned on telling him all of that, exactly.

And yet that’s exactly what she did. 

He stared back at her, jaw slack. He was dumbfounded and clearly, _rightfully_ , hurt. She stammered for a moment, trying to walk back something, _anything_ that she said, but she _couldn’t_. She meant every word that she’d said. 

He blinked at her, wiping his hands on his pants as he shook his head. “I didn’t know you felt that way.” 

She frowned, the sort of frown that she could feel all across her face. “Teddy, I’m-”

She paused when he put his hand up. “Don’t.” He shook his head again, rubbing at his jaw as he took a deep breath. “I think you should leave.” 

He didn’t look up at her as she silently collected her things, and she didn’t look back at him once she left the table. She clenched her jaw as she shoved the door open too hard, the bells chiming even louder than usual. That went about as badly as it could have possibly gone. 

It was cold outside, but she didn’t take the time to put on her jacket before she stepped out into the brisk, windy day. She regretted it as soon as the November air hit her skin. Now that she was finally away from Teddy, she allowed herself to roll her eyes at the situation. She stepped off of the path so that she wasn’t in the way of her fellow rushing New Yorkers while she pulled on her jacket. 

Things hadn’t always been so bad with him. She frowned deeply, looking down and tugging at her zipper. The zipper wouldn’t budge. She rolled her eyes again. _Of course._ Apparently everything was going to go wrong today. After a heavy sigh, she gripped her zipper tighter and jerked it upward at the exact same time that the door she was standing next to swung open. 

Whoever had pushed the door open had used quite a bit of force, because when the door collided with her, it sent her hurtling toward the ground. She fell hard with a yelp, catching herself right before she banged her head off of the brick building. 

“ _C’mon, bitch_ , get out of the way,” a random passerby shouted, stomping past her.

“Fuck you,” she hissed back, allowing all of the acidity she’d been feeling to creep into her voice. He turned around to flip her off before he continued about his way. 

Her jacket still wasn’t zipped, and she glanced down at her stained top and pulled her jacket shut before she leaned against the building, dejected and annoyed.

“Oh my god, are you okay?!” A man, frazzled and concerned, rushed toward her. He leaned down, extending his hand for her to grab. She looked up at the little curl tipping onto his forehead and sighed, pushing herself up to stand without taking his hand. 

He pulled his hand back awkwardly. “I- Hey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you when I opened the door and I should’ve paid better attention and I shouldn’t have opened the door so rough and I-” He paused after the _very_ long, very flustered sentence, raking his fingers through his hair. “Anyway, I’m really sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” 

She continued holding her jacket closed as she walked past him without another word.

“Hey, hold on-” She could hear his footsteps as he jogged to catch up with her. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee or something to apologize? You don’t have to hang out with me or anything, I just feel really bad.” She didn’t say anything for a moment, and he immediately began talking again. “And that guy was a real douche, so sorry about that, too.” 

She scoffed. That guy _was_ a douche. “It’s really fine, you don’t have to.” 

He sped up a little so he was a step ahead of her and she could look at him a little more easily. “I _want to_. If that’s fine with you, I mean.” 

She stopped walking, looking him over. He shoved his hands down into the pockets of his blue hoodie as he waited for her response, and he didn’t seem to even notice the way he rocked back on his heels. She sighed. “Look, honestly… It’s not fine with me. I just wanna go home.”

He took a step back. “Oh, I’m sorry. Have a nice day, uh…” He trailed off, waiting for her to fill in her name.

“You have a nice day, too.” 

This time when she walked away, he didn’t speed up to walk with her. She forged ahead, still pulling at her stupid zipper and trying not to rub her arm where they door had hit her in case he was still behind her. She didn’t want to risk him seeing the movement and taking that as a sign that he should try again for that apology coffee. A quick glance behind her revealed that he _was_ still there, walking in the same direction as her. He smiled at her when she looked back, but she just turned back around and kept walking. 

Yeah. She didn’t have time _or_ the desire to have coffee with a stranger, even if his eyes _were_ sparkly and kind as he reached down to help her up. She shook the image out of her head, returning her attention to the zipper. She didn’t _want_ to have coffee with him. She had just broken up with her boyfriend of just under a year, and it went _terribly_. He was clearly hurt and while she was positive that she wanted to end the relationship, she really hadn’t wanted to do it like that. 

She mumbled under her breath as she finally gave up on the zipper. There was nothing she could do about what had already happened. All she could do was adjust for the future and make room for the changes that were inevitably coming. 

She groaned internally. Gina would have a ball with this information. Last time she’d brought up the relationship, things were going fine. They weren’t going _great_ , but they were okay. They were stable. She’d love to hear how Amy exploded like a grenade at the mention of _pilsners_ of all things. 

While Gina had been sure at first that running into Teddy was fate, she quickly grew to dislike him. He was _boring_. He told jokes that never landed and always wanted to talk about lame things, like traffic laws. He wore _argyle_ to that one work party. _Argyle, Amy!_

Once after Teddy dropped her off at the precinct, Gina had looked Amy dead in the face. “You better hope you’re right and that fate doesn’t exist, Amy. Because that man is _boring._ ”

And god, she was absolutely right. But the guilt was still making her stomach turn, still making her feel-

She glanced backward as she was walking, not quite deep enough in her thoughts that she’d forgotten to keep an eye on her surroundings. That’s when she realized that he was _still_ there. The man with the sparkly, kind eyes and the brown curls spilling onto his forehead was _following her_.

This time when she looked back, he wasn’t looking directly at her. He was looking down at his phone, glancing at the path in front of him every few seconds. But he _had to be_ following her, right? She stared back at him as she continued walking until he looked up, then she quickly turned back to face forward.

Where could he be going if he _wasn’t_ following her? She’d made a few different turns, and he just happened to be following the same path with _no_ connection to her at all? She clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to check and see if he was still there. She was sure that he was. What was the building that he’d walked out of, anyway? What are the chances that he was following the exact same path as her and he wasn’t just following her?

As she neared the corner where her building was, she quickly began scanning her options. Did she walk past her building so the man didn’t know where she lived? What if he was some kind of creep and he came back at another time? Did she just go home, hoping he didn’t follow her into the apartment building? Did she duck into the diner or the bodega across the street?

She stopped at the corner and took a deep breath before she turned around again. She scanned both directions, looking through all the faces around her. There were quite a few men standing there, waiting for the light to change, but none of them had that handful of untamed little curls at the crown of their head. 

She sighed in relief, shaking her head and almost laughing at herself. She got so worked up for nothing. She didn’t have time to deconstruct the whole interaction right then, how he was really just a kind stranger or how being a woman meant that sometimes, even in the middle of the day surrounded by people, she felt on alert when she noticed the same man behind her for too long. Almost laughed, because as the laugh was about to leave her lips, she stepped into a puddle, effectively ruining her white shoes. 

But it didn’t even matter. She was finally walking into her apartment building, mere minutes away from throwing her pilsner-stained, Teddy’s-cologne-scented shirt in the trash and moving on with her life.

Stepping through the doors, she realized that this really was going to be the worst day of her life. Tacked onto the door that contained the staircase was a note. 

_Stairs temporarily closed due to structural damage. An emergency work order has been placed and the problem will be resolved tomorrow. Elevator is in working order. Sorry for any inconvenience!_

“No. No, no, no, no, no, _no_ ,” she whispered to no one in particular. “ _No._ ”

She knew what this was. The worst day of her life led her to this moment. She was going to get in the elevator, the _tiny_ elevator that she refused to get in because it was old and barely big enough for four people to comfortably stand in. She would get in the tiny elevator and hold her breath until it got to her floor, _if_ it got to her floor, and then it would break. She was _not_ going to get on the elevator. It wasn’t happening.

She didn’t even like the elevator at the precinct, and that elevator worked _great_. That elevator hadn’t been broken down twice in the past year. That elevator was big enough that the whole squad could fit comfortably.

She groaned as she looked back down at her top. She had work the next morning, and she obviously couldn’t go in like _this_. 

She peered through the little window to the stairs, trying to crane her neck to see what the problem was. Maybe it wasn’t actually that bad and she could just be really careful. But when she pushed on the door, it was locked. 

“ _Fuck._ ” This was _not_ happening. She was going to have to get on the elevator. She stared up at the ceiling, eyebrows scrunched together and hoping that the elevator could hear her silent pleas that it held it together long enough for her to make it to her apartment. As she waited for the doors to open to let her into the tiny box, she tried her hardest not to list off all of the building and fire codes that closing down the stairs presented. She would be writing a strongly worded-

“Wait, hold the elevator!” A voice called. 

She couldn’t figure out if it would be worse to be stuck in the elevator alone or if it would be worse to be stuck in there with a stranger, but she held the door anyway. She didn’t look up at the man as he walked in, she just stepped to the side to maintain an acceptable distance and silently pray that a) the man she just let into the elevator wasn’t going to attack her and b) the elevator wasn’t going to break.

She hit the button for her floor and held her breath as the elevator jolted, immediately sending her stomach down to her toes. The man did not hit a floor button, so she turned to look up at him. “What floor do you-”

She trailed off as she looked up into those same brown eyes that she had seen a while earlier. She had never seen him in her building before. He _was_ following her. And now she was stuck in an elevator with him.

“Are you following me?” She finally asked, backing up against the wall and looking at him, eyes and voice betraying the accusation.

“What?” He looked genuinely confused as he shook his head. “No, I’m not _following you_. Are you following me?” 

“ _What?_ I was in front of you.” 

He shrugged his shoulders and his lips pulled into a smirk. “Yeah, maybe you’re reverse following me.”

“Wouldn’t that just mean that you’re following me?” 

“No-” He tilted his head, clearly thinking about it. “Wait… I mean, I guess _technically_...” He laughed, loud and full. “I’m not following you. I’m new to the building.”

She looked him over slowly, eventually deciding that the story seemed to make sense. “Well… Welcome, I guess.” She laughed stalely. “As you can see, it’s a great building to-”

She stopped talking as the elevator lurched to a stop. He made a face at her, but she turned silently to the elevator doors, waiting for them to open. 

_1-_

_2-_

_3-_

_4-_

_...5._

“No,” she whispered softly.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked, concern tinging his voice.

“No,” she repeated. “No, no, no, _no._ No, this isn’t happening.”

She began hitting the buttons on the elevator frantically, but to no avail. The doors remained shut.

“Is the elevator stuck?” He asked from behind her.

She ignored him, continuing to hit buttons and mumbling panickedly to herself. She pulled out her phone which, of course, had no service, and she could feel the tears pricking in her eyes immediately.

She was taking deep breaths in through her nose, out through her mouth like her brother had taught her, but nothing was helping. 

She was stuck in a tiny elevator in her dilapidated ass apartment building with a man she didn’t know staring at her like she was absolutely insane. Maybe she _was_ absolutely insane. Why else would she have gotten into the elevator after the day she had been having? She practically called that this was going to happen, and yet she got in the elevator anyway.

“Hey, are you…?” The man spoke again, and she barely even registered the sound over her thoughts until he touched the back of her arm gently. She jumped, spinning quickly on her heel to face him, sliding back against the doors as she did so.

He took a step back, holding his hands up innocently and watched, eyebrows raised, as she sank to the floor. She rested her elbows on her knees, fingers locking into her hair as she struggled to steady her breathing. It would be fine. Everything would be _fine_. She was just stuck in a tiny box. And nobody knew she was there. And her phone wasn’t working. 

But it would be _fine_. Teddy would be over around-

 _Oh._ Teddy wouldn’t be coming over because she broke his pilsner-filled heart over lunch. So she was just in an elevator with no access to the outside world and no one coming to alert the building management that she was stuck so she might be stuck for _hours_ or even days and _then what?_

“Damn it,” the man mumbled to himself as he raised his phone toward the ceiling. “No service.”

She continued trying to correct her breathing as she watched him walk over to the button panel. He inspected it closely, then loudly proclaimed, “Look! It’ll be fine, there’s this-”

“The button…” She paused to take a ragged breath. “Doesn’t work.” 

He had already pushed the emergency button and was witnessing first-hand that it did nothing. He shook his head and pushed the button a few more times, seemingly getting a little panicked himself. He glanced over at her, then began looking around the rest of the elevator. He probably wanted to get away from the crazy woman crying on the dirty elevator floor. 

“Maybe I can like… pop that ceiling tile out? Ya’know, like in an action movie?” He partially leaned his weight on the handrail lining one wall to see how sturdy it was, making a face when it moved more than he would have liked. “I mean, it _might_ hold me…” He looked from the railing to the floor, sizing up the fall if it didn’t.

He stretched his foot up clumsily, resting it on the edge of the handrail and looking for something to grab onto as he reached for the tile.

“Wait, don’t-” She finally cut in. Probably the only thing worse than being stuck in an elevator with a nice stranger that she’d already accused of stalking her would be being stuck in an elevator with a nice stranger who had a concussion from falling because he was trying to get away from her. 

He pulled his foot down, looking over at her and patiently waiting for her to continue, but her breath was falling so quickly that she couldn’t manage to get a full word out.

“I’m sorry, I just wanna get you out of here. You… No offense, but you don’t really look okay.”

“Claustrophobic,” she managed, trying to offer him a weak smile that likely came off as more of a grimace.

He frowned, looking back up toward the ceiling. “So I was just thinking, ya’know, maybe I John McClane this elevator, yippee ki-yay us through the ceiling and then I piggyback you up to the next floor.” 

A laugh bubbled out of her amongst her shallow breathing. “No offense, but I don’t think you could carry me on your back and pull us up to the next floor.” 

“Hey,” he whined, “I’m strong! Once I carried eight bottles of orange soda up three flights of stairs without even stopping once!”

“That has more to do with your endurance than your strength, doesn’t it? I mean, how heavy are eight bottles of orange soda?” He shrugged. “So you have strong endurance.”

“Title of my sex tape.”

“What?” 

They made awkward eye contact across the elevator at each other. “Strong Endurance. Title of my sex tape.” She raised her eyebrows, unsure about what exactly to make of that. He laughed uncomfortably. “I’m trying to distract you. Is it working?”

She looked around for a moment, aware for the first time that she wasn’t struggling quite so hard to take a breath. As she looked around, the reality of her situation crept back into her mind. “I mean, it _was_.” 

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the doors. 

“Can I… uh, can I sit next to you?” 

She didn’t move, not even bothering to open her eyes. “As long as you keep talking, you can do whatever you want.” 

There was a shuffling sound as he walked over to her, then she felt his warmth as he slid down next to her. 

“Can I touch you?” 

She turned her head towards him, her eyes snapping open cautiously.

“Not like-” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding her eyes. “I, uh… When I was a kid, I had this anxiety thing for a while after my-” He trailed off, looking down at the floor. “After my dad left.”

He looked back up at her and they exchanged a quick, understanding look before he continued. “My mom always knew exactly how to fix it. I get it if it’s weird, but… Given the situation, I figured I’d ask.” 

She stared at him for a long moment, watching as he picked at a stray thread on his jeans, then looked up at her. He smiled, gentle and kind. He looked like he genuinely just wanted to help her. 

“I swear I’m not creepy,” he began again, glancing at her for a brief moment, eyes full of concern as her breathing seemed to intensify again. “That was such a stupid thing to say, I’m sorry. Just not super sure what to do here, I guess.”

Perhaps this would be the beginning of a story that she really didn’t want to tell. Maybe this would be a moment that she would look back on and realize that she’d made a ridiculous decision. If he groped her or otherwise tried to harm her, she could make him aware that she was part of the NYPD, but she wasn’t armed with anything but a broken zipper. 

Typically, every instinct she had would be screaming at her in a moment like this. She couldn’t be sure why that wasn’t happening now. Was it that each second, the walls felt just a little closer? Did she need comfort so badly that she would accept anything that even _maybe_ gave her a promise of it? Her throat was burning from each ragged breath, and she wanted so desperately to calm down, but she _couldn’t_.

She took a deep breath and shoved her reservations aside.

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Okay. Just keep talking.” She nodded quickly, closing her eyes tight. “Your voice helps.” 

“You want me to _keep_ talking?” He asked, a hint of exasperation in his voice. “God, it’s like I was made for this.” 

He paused for a moment. She could feel him shifting next to her. His fingers brushed against the top of her arm gently. He ghosted his fingertips up her arm, then the back of his nails all the way back down to her wrist. “I’m Jake, by the way.”

“Amy,” she replied softly, already focusing more on his repetitive movement than the thoughts that were previously clouding her head.

“Amy,” he repeated thoughtfully. He continued tracing his fingers along her arm slowly, silence falling between them. 

“Jake?” 

He turned toward her, stopping his motion momentarily. “Yeah?”

“You aren’t talking.”

He laughed softly. “Right, I’m sorry. I guess I’ll start by telling you about my day?” She hummed in response, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the elevator wall. His next laugh sounded rather empty, if not a bit stale. “It’s been pretty bad, I guess.” 

She scoffed. “I don’t know what else happened, but you’re currently stuck in an elevator with a crazy woman,” she opened her eyes just enough to watch him shake his head at her through his laughter, “so I don’t know if ‘pretty bad’ really covers how bad your day is.” 

“Actually, believe it or not, this wasn’t on my list of bad things that have happened today.” 

She bit her lip to suppress her smile that, even despite her shaky breathing, was threatening to creep across her lips. 

“I wasn’t exactly thrilled about moving in the first place. My, uh, “ he hesitated for a moment, then picked back up like it hadn’t happened, “ _branch_ at work closed down, so I had to transfer out here. It came with a lot of fun life changes.” 

“Fun life changes?” She tilted her head toward his so she could look at him as he spoke. His jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” she added.

He smiled tightly at her. “I was just in a relationship, is all. I thought things were getting pretty serious, but apparently _she_ wasn’t on the same page. So when I found out that I had to transfer, she basically celebrated.” He pulled his hand off of her arm for a moment to imitate air quotes. “Said ‘we’re too different.’”

Amy made a face, and he quickly started tracing his fingers up and down her arms again. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” she shook her head. “I just, uh… I broke up with my boyfriend today. It sounded kind of similar to that speech, actually…” She trailed off. “At least, at first it did.” 

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “It didn’t end that way?” 

She pulled her hands up to hide her face. Her hands were still covering her face as she began to speak again. “It did _not_ end that way.”

“What happened?” He shifted so that his knees were tented. He leaned an elbow on his knee, then hesitantly stretched his arm around her shoulder so that he could continue tracing along her other arm. “This okay?”

She hummed a quick sound of acceptance. She adjusted so that she could pull her jacket off of her arms, gesturing down to her stained shirt.

“Oh my god,” he breathed a laugh, backing away enough that he could see her shirt a little better. “You smell like-”

“If you say pilsners, I swear to god.” 

He made a face at her. “I was gonna say beer… Why would I say _pilsners_?”

She groaned, trying to lean close enough to his shoulder that he couldn’t see the heat rising across her cheeks. “My ex, Teddy, _loved_ them. He spilled one on me, I think intentionally, when he realized where the conversation was headed.” 

“Oh my god,” Jake commented quietly. “That is pretty bad.”

She laughed. “Yeah. So I basically blew up on him about how we have nothing in common and our relationship was just the same thing every day and I just couldn’t _take it_ anymore. I think I called him boring.” When she looked at Jake, he was biting his lip, she guessed to dispel his laughter. “And when I walked out of there, that’s when you ran into me.”

“I’m _so_ sorry about that, by the way. Although maybe if you would’ve let me take you out for a cup of coffee, we wouldn’t be stuck on this elevator right now…”

She nudged him in the shoulder, her mouth falling open as she looked at him. When she nudged him, his hand fell off of her arm and to her side. The silence that filled the elevator was thick. Jake’s hand twitched at her side for a moment before he decisively curved it around her waist loosely, and with more than a little trepidation, he continued tracing shapes with his fingers.

“So do you think it’ll be different?” He finally asked. She looked at him curiously, waiting for him to expand. “I mean, not being with him? You said that every day felt the same. Do you think that’ll change?” 

“I mean…” She gestured around the elevator. “I broke up with him less than an hour ago and I’m already sitting on the floor of an elevator telling a stranger about it. And the stranger’s hand is on my side and I-”

He pulled his hand away quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“No,” she interrupted, “you don’t have to stop––unless… I mean, unless _you_ want to.”

He returned his hand to her side wordlessly, and she was grateful that he didn’t make a big deal about it or talk about it more. 

They were quiet for a few moments, then Amy’s question from earlier in the day occurred to her. “What was that place you were rushing out of, anyway?”

Jake groaned, pulling his arm away from her side and pulling it into his lap so he could gesture with his hands while he spoke. “I ordered furniture for this stupid apartment––” he paused to look at her, “I mean, not that the apartment is _bad_...”

Amy rolled her eyes. “Jake, we’re stuck in the elevator right now. Both the stairs and the elevator are broken, that’s breaking like, at least five city codes.”

He looked at her curiously, but didn’t follow up on the statement. “Yeah. Well, anyway, I ordered furniture from that place. They said everything would be ready to pick up today, so I moved all the rest of my stuff last night. Then when I got there today,” he rested his elbows on his knees, extending his hands out in front of him palm up with a flourish, “they said it’ll be two weeks before my mattress comes.” 

“ _Two weeks?”_ Amy asked, blinking wildly at him. 

“That’s what I said!” He shrugged, then rested his hand next to hers, tracing her wrist lightly. “So I argued with them for _ever_ , and I didn’t get anywhere. So I was pretty frustrated when I left.” 

Amy laughed. “Yeah, the door kind of hit me like a truck.” 

He frowned at her. “I’m really sorry, Ames.” 

“Ames?” 

“Amy––sorry.” He laughed uncomfortably. “Neighborly nickname, I guess.” 

She laughed. “We’ve known each other for an hour and you’re taking care of me on an elevator floor. You can call me Ames, if you want.” 

He turned to assess her, seemingly reminded that there was a reason he was touching her. “How are you, by the way?” 

She shrugged. “I don’t know.” She pushed herself up off of the floor, looking around the elevator as she stood. She walked forward, then turned back to Jake. “I actually think I might be okay. Maybe I’ve gotten used to it?” 

He pushed himself up to stand with her, extending his hand for a high-five. “Look at that. I’ve known you for an hour and you’re already overcoming your fears. I guess I make you a better person, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and they both laughed. 

“Yeah, that’s it––”

**_BANG_ **

Jake reached for her hand again as the entire elevator shook––for her benefit, not his, of course. He clutched at the handrail, and Amy clutched at him, both of them standing stiffly as the elevator stopped shaking, then began again. 

When it stopped, they both stood still for a moment, holding hands, her other hand gripping his shirt, and his still keeping them attached to the handrail. 

His voice was weak when he spoke. “Uh… you okay?” 

She shook her head, fist clenched tight on his shirt. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her back down to the floor with him. “They’re probably just working on fixing it now.”

She was silent. He rubbed his arm on her shoulder, her head tucked against his chest. He imagined that normally, it would feel weird to be in a situation like this with a stranger. Instead, it just felt like the only thing to do. He wasn’t just going to let her sit there by herself, paralyzed with fear. What kind of a person would he be if he did that? 

He was also acutely aware of the possibility that there _was_ something more wrong with the elevator. Maybe it wasn’t shaking because they were fixing it, maybe it was shaking because the cable holding them up snapped. Perhaps it was going to shoot down four floors and he was going to have dealt with the stress involved in the move just for him to die the day after he moved in. At least he wasn’t alone, he guessed. 

“We’re going to die in here,” Amy echoed his thoughts quietly, seriously. 

He shook his head, about to disagree when the elevator began shaking again. She wound her arms around his waist quickly, practically burying herself in him. He tightened his arms around her shoulders, keeping her close. They both tensed again, and he was practically holding his breath when the lights flickered out. 

“See?” Jake forced a laugh, his voice an octave higher than he’d prefer. “The lights are out. Progress, right?” 

Amy didn’t say anything, and he felt bad once again. He was trying to make jokes to lighten the very heavy mood, but it clearly wasn’t helping her. He shook his head, trying to clear all the foggy thoughts that were making him antsy, and gently rubbed his hand between her shoulder blades. 

“My friend lives in the area, did I mention that, yet? We grew up together. She’s totally gonna get a kick out of all of this.” 

Amy forced out a quiet laugh, but she still didn’t relax. “Yeah, I have a friend who’s probably going to lose it when she hears about all of this. She’s super into _fate_.” 

Jake laughed. “Fate?” 

Amy adjusted to pull out her phone, turning on the flashlight and setting it on the floor so that they could see each other’s faces in the dim light. “Yeah. She used to always say that Teddy and I were a work of fate.” She shook her head. “We see how that turned out.” 

“And you don’t believe in fate?” 

She made a face at him, her eyebrows drawing together. “Do you?”

He shrugged his shoulders, his hand moving back to lightly tracing up and down her arm. “I don’t know. I think sometimes things are more than just coincidental.” 

She leaned a little further away from him. “I mean, yeah, I _guess_. But how do you know the difference? She always said me running into Teddy again was fate because we’d gone on a few dates years before. But I think it probably _was_ just a coincidence.” 

Jake shrugged his shoulders again. “I don’t know. I guess…” He laughed, looking away from her. “I was having a really bad day today, and then I opened a door and hit you with it. And you were already having a really bad day, too.”

“And you think that’s fate?” 

“I think it’s weird that this morning, the stairs weren’t closed. I think it’s weird that we were walking by that spot at the same time. I think it’s weird that I ran into the bodega to see if they had orange soda, but I still made it here in time to catch the elevator with you.” He also thought it was weird that they had both recently gotten out of relationships, but he refrained from sharing that thought with her. “And I don’t know about you, but I think that I would be handling this a lot worse if you weren’t here.” 

She adjusted in his arms, leaning up to look at him again. She bit her lip, looking down at his hand, still rubbing across her wrist and onto the palm of her hand. He didn’t stop her when she leaned in. 

It was quick. An unsure press of her lips against his, easily accepted and reciprocated, but unsure through and through. She pulled away as if his lips burnt her, her hand flying up to his chest as if she were trying to push herself away from him, but she made no effort to move further from him. 

“I’m so sorry–” She shook her head, looking away from him. “I don’t know what I was thinking, I was just–”

He interrupted her, pressing his lips back to hers, his hand tentatively moving to cup her face. Her hand covered his, a soft, surprised moan escaping her lips as he kissed her, much more confidently. 

He leaned his forehead against hers when he pulled away, both of them working to correct their irregular breathing. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, smiling when she laughed at him. 

The lights flickered back on abruptly, and they broke apart quickly. Amy slid away from him a little bit, looking bashfully down at the floor. Jake rubbed the back of his neck, looking off to the wall. He cleared his throat quietly, and just as he was about to say something, the elevator lurched into motion. 

“Oh my god,” Amy squealed, jumping up and standing directly in front of the elevator doors. “Oh my god, it’s over!” 

Jake laughed as he stood up, walking over to stand next to her. “Hopefully they get the stairs fixed pretty quickly.” 

The elevator doors opened, and Amy turned sideways to slide between them before they were even open all the way. She leaned on the wall, running her fingers through her hair and looking as if all of her stress was falling off of her in waves. 

Jake laughed again, leaning on the wall next to her. 

She turned to look at him, a soft smile on her lips, just a hint of her white teeth peeking out. “Hey, thank you, Jake.”

He shrugged, looking down at the floor for a moment. He met her eyes again. “Not like I had anywhere else to be. I’m just glad our terrible days lined up.” 

She grinned, turning her head again. “I have an air mattress. If you want to borrow it, until your furniture gets here, I mean.” 

He shook his head. “Nah, I’m gonna grab a few things from my apartment, then I’m gonna head over to that friend’s house. I’ll probably just crash over there tonight.” He shrugged. “But who knows, tomorrow I might be knocking on your door begging for it.” 

She nodded. “Great. I’ll see you around, then?” 

“Yeah.” He watched as she turned to walk away, but then he hesitated. “Ames–”

She turned to look at him. “Yeah?” 

“You wanna grab dinner or something?” She tilted her head at him, and he worked to backtrack the statement. “I mean… Not like, a date or anything… Just, like, as friends. Since, ya’know, we’re neighbors now…” 

She laughed. “I’m definitely not leaving the apartment complex until the stairs are fixed. But if you’re free in the next couple days?” 

He smiled at her, nodding quickly. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds good. And hey––for what it’s worth, I don’t think things are just going to be the same.” 

She nodded, meeting his eyes for a moment. “I guess you’ll be around to find out, huh?” She laughed, watching as he walked to his apartment door. “I’ll see you, Jake.” 

“See ya.”

––

She sat at her desk, sipping her coffee, and it was almost like the previous day hadn’t even happened at all. He’d popped into her head when she was getting ready in the morning, and she wondered if she might run into him on her way to work, but she didn’t. 

She wanted him to be right. Things would be different for her. But as she sat at her desk, she already felt like she was just repeating the same day that she’d lived last Monday. And the Monday before that, and the one before that. 

“Good morning,” Captain Holt’s voice called out from his office as he opened the door. She swivelled in her chair, coffee cup still in hand, to look at him. “I have an announcement to make. This is Detective Jake Peralta. He will be joining our precinct, _and_ , he will be wearing a tie the next time I see him.” 

Jake stepped out from behind Holt, looking dejected. 

“I understand that one of you already knows Detective Peralta.”

Amy tilted her head to the side. How did he know that she worked here? Jake looked up from where he was standing, scanning the room. He met her eyes, face clearly recognizing her and showing her that he definitely did _not_ know that she worked there, based on his reaction. His head tilted the same as hers did when he met her eyes, then his eyes flashed away, toward the floor. 

“That’s right,” Gina finally said, walking over dramatically. “Jake Peralta, my childhood bodyguard––”

“Best friend,” Jake interrupted.

“Best friend,” Gina repeated, smiling at him and tucking an arm behind his back in a sort of half-hug. 

“Peralta?” Rosa said from her corner of the room. 

“Diaz?” Jake looked up at her. “I didn’t know you worked here.” 

“That’s how I liked it,” she replied in her usual flat tone. She flashed a smile at him. 

“There’s the Rosa Diaz I know and love.” 

“Oh, good, so you know two people, then.” Jake’s eyes met Amy’s again as Holt continued. “I expect this will be an easy transition for you.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Jake nodded in his direction before making his way over to the desk across from her. He sat down, careful not to look at her too obviously. 

“Detective Charles Boyle,” Charles announced, sticking his hand out for Jake to shake. Jake accepted it, glancing warily at Amy before he turned to fully face Charles. “You are so cool, and I’m so glad to have you here at the nine-nine,” he added. 

“Thanks, Charles! I’m excited to be here.” 

“Boyle! Back off, let him breathe!” Gina hissed from the side of the room. Charles smiled at Jake, then scurried off to his desk. 

Jake finally turned to face Amy, looking across his desk at her. “Hi, partner.” 

She shook her head at him, grinning. “I had no idea you were a cop.” 

“I had no idea _you_ were a cop,” he replied. “You’re my neighbor, I didn’t want to tell you I was a cop right off the bat. What if you were a criminal?” 

She tilted her head in thought. “I mean, good point, I guess.”

“How would I have gotten the collar if you knew I was on the lookout?” 

She made a face at him. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I’d be a good enough criminal that you wouldn’t catch me, regardless, but…” 

He raised his eyebrows, looking down at the nameplate on her desk. “Is that right, Santiago? How do you know? You a detective with a life of crime on the side?” 

“I’m a good enough detective that I’d be able to think the crimes through from every angle.” 

He seemed to mull that over, then reached over to toy with one of the pens in the cup on her desk. “Plus, you’re pretty organized, so that might help you go undetected.” He set the pen down, looking up at her. “But I’m the greatest detective in the nine-nine, so––”

“Greatest detective in the nine-nine? You haven’t even solved any cases here.” 

He laughed. “You’ll see. You can just start off by calling me Detective Right-All-The-Time.”

“Jake, stop flirting with her. She _just_ broke up with her boyfriend.” Gina chastised him, coming over to sit on the edge of Amy’s desk. “I saw the relationship status on facebook,” she informed her. “I guess you were right. There’s no such thing as fate.” 

Jake and Amy exchanged a glance. Amy smiled to herself, turning so Gina couldn’t see her face. She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe there is such a thing as fate.” 

When she turned back to look at Gina, she was making a face at her like she was an idiot. She turned to Jake. “Doesn’t believe in fate when she meets the guy, but believes in fate when she breaks up with him. Congrats on your new partner, Peralta. She’s a weirdo.” 

Jake laughed. “Yeah, she kind of is.” 

They both tried to hide their grins as Gina stared between them, trying to figure out what their deal was before she got bored and walked back to her desk. 

She wasn’t sure about fate, but she was sure about one thing. This Monday will _not_ be like the last one.

**Author's Note:**

> Can we talk about how hard I struggled with not writing a title of your sex tape joke after the line "tomorrow I might be knocking on your door begging for it"? Would've been way out of context in the moment but I wanted to write it so BAD. 
> 
> Anyhways.
> 
> Quick fic in which after this, a fairly similar timeline to canon is followed. Jake and Amy do not date, but they are neighbors and partners and all the shenanigans ensue. This is just a one-shot, but my brain is already outlining all the things I'm refusing to do with a story like this. :-) 
> 
> Just wanted to do a little Amy doesn't believe in fate until she meets Jake thing.


End file.
